He put the bottle on the soap stand. He closed the faucet and turned to me. Looking at me, he saw me staring down at his dripping, limp, long cock. M... lips were lightly parted with my impassive tongue trying to moisten them. My crotch was a raging fury. The bulge in my trunks was full blown; it looked like a circus tent. He did not do or say anything.He just waited until I raised my eyes to meet his. My guest raised his left forehand and rested it on my shoulder; his thick fingers reached. Before she'd gone much further she knew she'd have to stop and do something about it. So, feeling terribly exposed, she squatted down and using the scrap of rag from her pocket carefully wiped the stickiness from her thighs and vaginal crease. As her fingers brushed across her clitoris a rush of guilty pleasure flooded her belly. But it was her poor bottom that demanded most of her attention. Even the light cotton moving against her rear cheeks was sending uncomfortable tinglings racing across. More

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